


The Weekend

by RubyIntyale



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking Games, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14253942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyIntyale/pseuds/RubyIntyale
Summary: Armie had been the one to suggest the drinking game, thinking he would get Timmy well and truly smashed and get some good dirt on him in the process. The problem was that he was three sheets to the wind already and Timmy had barely drunk anything.





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, another work of fiction that is not intended to upset or offend anyone.  
> (There will be more sex in the next chapter, I promise).  
> Enjoy :)

“I have never...been felt up in a movie theatre.” Armie smiled proudly to his audience of two, rosy-cheeked with alcohol and the warm summer night. Esther giggled as she took a guilty sip of her drink. Armie whooped and applauded.

Timmy rolled his eyes. “Yeah right!”

“Hey! I've done it in nightclubs, taxi cabs and airplane bathrooms but never,” Armie's face turned serious “never, ever at the movies. I respect my craft too much.” He puffed out his chest.

Timmy scoffed.

“OK, Drama Club,” he teased gently, nudging Timmy with his foot. “I can't help but notice you're staying suspiciously quiet on the subject.”

“I didn't drink, did I?”

Did Timmy sound defensive? Armie wasn't sure. Some prodding was needed, both physically and emotionally. He pressed Timmy's knee with the ball of his foot again. “So you've never got hot and heavy to 'Titanic' or some shit?” He couldn't help the smirk. Honestly, he couldn't.

Timmy shook his head. “Gross. I was like, 3 when that movie came out.”

Armie's face contorted in a grimace of imagined pain. “Low blow, man. Low blow.”

Timmy laughed, and it was one of his full bodied, head thrown back, tears in his eyes kind of laughs. Armie smiled at him fondly. Esther raised her straw to her lips again, eyeing both of them.

It was Friday night and they had a rare weekend off. Leaving Luca's dinner party early, the three of them had raided Armie's kitchen for booze before making themselves comfortable; Esther curled up in an armchair, Armie sitting proudly on a footstool, Timmy cross legged on the floor at his feet. Armie had been the one to suggest the drinking game, thinking he would get Timmy well and truly smashed and get some good dirt on him in the process. The problem was that he was three sheets to the wind already and Timmy had barely drunk _anything._

“OK, my turn,” Esther thought for a moment. “I've never had sex in my parents' house.”

Armie winced and took a long swig of his rum and coke. Esther squealed with joy and drummed her feet on the chair. “You're so naughty!”

Timmy laughed with them, but his vodka and orange juice stayed stubbornly where it was.

“OK, Tim, your turn.” Armie was eager to get the attention off himself again.

“I can't think of anything,” Timmy picked a loose thread on his jeans. “You two keep playing.”

“Suit yourself,” Armie shrugged. “I've never had sex with someone without knowing their name.”

It went on like this for some time.

“I've never had oral sex in a car.”

“I've never had a threesome.”

“I've never tied someone up,” (Armie drank a LOT when this one came up).

“I've never let anyone take dirty photographs of me.”

On and on, and through it all Timmy remained frustratingly sober.

“Come _on_ , Timmy Tim!” Armie whined half an hour later. “There are milkshakes less vanilla than you.”

“I know one,” Esther interrupted before Timmy could protest. Her voice was sly. “I've never fantasised about someone I've worked with.”

Timmy glared at her. He lifted his glass to his lips and downed the contents, placing it back on the coffee table a little harder than necessary.

Armie was too drunk to notice. “Yes! Fucking finally! So? Go on. Who was it? Was it Morena? Claire? Was it Matthew?” He grinned at Timmy, “Was it me?”

Timmy was suddenly on his feet. “Night guys. I'm going home.”

“Hey, what's up? Stay! We're having a good time,” Armie pouted.

“I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure she gets home alright,” he gestured to Esther.

Armie nodded. He watched Timmy leave with a sigh.

Esther shook her head. “Inconscient.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It's late. I should leave too.”

“OK. I'll walk you home.”

 

~

 

By the time he got back to his apartment, Armie had decided that they needed to talk about it. Timmy had been weird all night and his rum addled brain told him he had a right to know why. He turned around without putting his key in the lock and walked across the landing to Timmy's place.

Timmy answered on the third loud knock. “What're you doing here? I was about to go to bed.”

Armie walked in without being asked. Timmy had to move to accommodate him.

“I don't get you,” Armie crossed his arms as he paced.

“Please, come in,” Timmy sounded annoyed.

Armie chose to ignore him. “You're like two different people. One is this really confident guy who's up for anything, and the other is this insecure, awkward kid. I don't get it.”

Timmy mumbled something Armie didn't catch. He wouldn't make eye contact.

“You're obviously not a prude or you wouldn't be making a film like this, but every time I talk about anything remotely related to sex, you shut down. Do I offend you or something? Cos, I don't think I talk disrespectfully, but I'm sorry if I've said something that's pissed you off.” He gave Timmy a pleading look. “We've got another month of filming to go. I really want to sort this out.”

Timmy sighed heavily. “You don't offend me,” he said quietly, still staring at the carpet. “It's just that I have nothing to contribute.”

“You have nothing to contribute?”

“Nope.”

“You mean you don't have any good stories?”

“I don't have _any_ stories, full stop. I've never...”

Oh. OH.

“You mean you haven't...” Armie's mouth was suddenly dry. He made a vague, swooping hand gesture.

“I haven't.” Timmy looked pained. “With anyone.”

Armie couldn't think of anything to say. He stared at Timmy. Fiddled with his watch. Smoothed down the front of his shorts. Stared at Timmy again.

“Right,” he said finally, after far too much time had passed.

“You can leave now.” Timmy walked to the door and held it open for him.

Armie shuffled out of the apartment like he'd been kicked. “Night,” he said lamely, but Timmy had already closed the door in his face.

 


	2. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna leave this here...

Armie showed up at Timmy's door the next morning, miraculously sans hangover and carrying a large paper bag from the local bakery. Timmy looked like he'd just woken up. He was wearing a white t shirt several sizes too big for him, his boxers and nothing else. His hair was everywhere and he blinked sleepily at Armie when he opened the door.

Armie held up the bag so that Timmy could see the logo, “Peace offering.”

Timmy eyed it suspiciously. “Are there almond croissants in there?”

“There are three.”

“Come in then,” Timmy sighed, walking away from the door and leaving it open.

Armie closed it behind him with a soft click. He handed the bag to Timmy, who immediately pulled out a croissant and bit into it. Armie sat down on the couch next to him, watched him eat for awhile. Watched him delicately lick his fingertips to get every last bit of pastry off.

“I'm sorry about last night,” he blurted out suddenly.

Timmy didn't look at him. “It's fine. I wasn't any more embarrassed than I usually am.”

Armie cringed. “I guess I just...I find it hard to believe, that's all.”

Timmy dug another croissant out of the bag. “Why?”

Armie thought for a moment. “Well, you're you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you're. I mean, you're...Talented and funny and interesting. You're ridiculously smart, and kind. And thoughtful too. And, well, you're beautiful. So yeah.”

Armie realised he probably should've stopped several adjectives ago, because Timmy had abandoned his breakfast and was now staring at him.

“You think I'm beautiful?”

“Oh, you know you're gorgeous, don't do that.” Armie tried to laugh.

Timmy smiled shyly. “I'm no Armie Hammer.”

They held each other's gaze just a fraction too long.

_It's really warm in here,_ Armie thought. _We should open some windows._

Eventually, Timmy spoke. “Look, thanks for saying all that, but that's not how people see me. They just wanna ruffle my hair and then tell me all about how their Lit professor is a dick and they still have feelings for the ex who cheated on them with their best friend. They don't want me in _that_ way. Trust me.”

“Well, then you've met a lot of stupid people.” Armie leaned further into the couch cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. Timmy had this strange look on his face and it was making him uncomfortable.

“Yeah. I'm surrounded by idiots,” he said quietly. “Not you, though.”

“No. Not me.”

More silence, then “Are you attracted to me?”

“Yes.” _Why deny it?_ Armie thought. “Are you attracted to me?”

“Of course, I have eyes.”

Timmy's voice was very low and Armie could feel himself blushing. _This kid!_ What the hell had happened in the last ten minutes?

Timmy shuffled up the couch until they were only centimetres away from each other. His eyes flicked to Armie's mouth. “I really want to kiss you. Is that OK?”

_Oh God, he's asking permission._ Armie pulled Timmy closer by the neck of his t shirt and kissed him. He didn't even try for chaste, too overwhelmed by the whole situation. Timmy kissed back with equal hunger. After several minutes, Armie broke away only to lift Timmy into his lap, and then their mouths devoured each other again, tongues teasing as Armie ran his hands up Timmy's back under his shirt, stroking his warm, smooth skin.

“Is this OK?” Armie whispered when they eventually came up for air.

Timmy nodded and nuzzled his face into Armie's neck, pushed his hips into his stomach.

“You're so hard,” Armie groaned as Timmy bit his neck. “Want me to take care of that for you?”

“Yes please.”

“Let's go to your room.”

Timmy climbed off his lap slowly, deliberately, and stood in front of him. He stretched out a hand to help Armie up. Armie took it, let Timmy lead him to his bedroom.

The window was open, wafting quiet street noise into the small space. The morning sunlight was everywhere, glinting off dust motes that were thrown into the air as Timmy haphazardly made the bed.

“You woke me up,” he said, explaining his untidiness.

Armie sat on the edge of the bed and intercepted Timmy on his way to fluff the pillows. With strong arms around his waist he pulled him close, kissed his stomach through his t shirt.

“Lay down with me?”

Timmy nodded.

They lay on their sides facing each other. Timmy snuggled closer so they could kiss again. When their kisses became desperate and Timmy started grinding against him, Armie gently pushed him away, holding him back with an open palm on his chest.

“I have to ask this, and please don't get embarrassed,” Timmy's worried expression made his heart ache. “How far have you actually gone before?”

Timmy chewed his lower lip and looked away. “I've made out with a couple of people. That's it.”

“Did you touch them?”

“Not really.”

“Did they touch you?”

“No. Not _there_ , anyway.”

_Fuck._

Armie groaned. He rolled them so that he was on top and Timmy could feel _everything_ he had to offer. Timmy's little 'oh' of surprise made his stomach do a happy flip. He kissed his way from his mouth to his stomach, pushing his t shirt up so that he could lick a wet stripe down to the waistband of Timmy's boxers. He pulled at the stretchy grey material playfully.

“Can I take these off?”

“Uh huh,” Timmy's eyes were shut and his hips made little motions of their own accord, pushing himself up against nothing.

Armie stretched the elastic waistband up and over Timmy's cock, freeing him. Timmy lifted his hips and let Armie pull his underwear down his legs. Armie lay on his stomach, positioning himself so that Timmy's long legs could drape over his broad shoulders. He slowly kissed his way down the inside of Timmy's thigh.

“I'm going to suck your dick,” his warm breath was devastatingly close to where Timmy's thigh met his groin. “Let me know if you want me to stop.”

Timmy whined in response. Armie, deciding he had teased the poor boy enough, took the head into his mouth straight away, sucking gently. He flicked his tongue over the slit, loving Timmy's little whimpers and the salty taste of his precome.

He gave Timmy a little while to adjust before swallowing down as much as he could, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked hard. He glanced up at Timmy, and the view nearly made him come in his shorts.

Timmy was a writhing, panting mess. His heels bumped against Armie's back as he grabbed fistfuls of duvet to steady himself. Armie's large hand found his and lifted it from the bed, lacing their fingers together on Timmy's stomach. With his other hand, he worked the part of Timmy's cock that wouldn't fit in his mouth until Timmy whined, thrust up, and came down his throat. He sucked on Timmy's softening cock until he pushed him away.

“Too much,” he gasped. “Too much.” He pushed his hands through his hair as he stared at the ceiling.

Armie was so hard now it was actually painful. He pulled at the front of his shorts, trying for a more comfortable angle, but it didn't help.

“Timmy?”

Timmy gazed at him, thoroughly spent.

“I really need to come. Do you wanna watch or do you wanna help?”

Timmy licked his lips. “Both?”

Armie grinned. He unzipped his shorts and wriggled out of them quickly, his underwear close behind. He moaned with relief as he finally took himself in hand.

“Fuck,” Timmy breathed.

Armie opened his eyes to see the boy outright staring at his cock, his lips parted and wet. Armie stroked himself firmly. “Do you approve?”

“Fuck,” Timmy said again.

“Tim?”

“Hmm?”

“I'm up here.”

Timmy's head shot up, his cheeks burning furiously. Armie kissed him, pushing his tongue into Timmy's mouth as he guided his hand down to replace his own around his swollen cock. He wrapped his hand around Timmy's so that they were stroking him together. It was familiar and yet completely new. Timmy's slender fingers felt amazing, putting the right amount of pressure just where he needed it.

He knew he wouldn't last long in this state. “Fuck, I'm so close,” he screwed his eyes shut. “I'm so close.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Timmy's teeth grazed his throat. “Do it. I wanna see.”

Armie came so hard it made his legs shake.

Timmy seemed reluctant to let go of him, but when he finally did, he brought his hand to his mouth and delicately touched his tongue to the webbing between his thumb and index finger, gathering up some of Armie's come, holding his gaze the entire time.

“It's not bad.”

Armie groaned. “Jesus, fuck. I think you've ruined me.”

Timmy made a self conscious little sound, half way between a laugh and a cough. “I should probably get dressed at some point today.”

“Why?” Armie had snuggled into the bed, almost onto his stomach. His words were muffled by the pillow.

Timmy shoved him. “Let's go out. It's nice right now. It'll probably rain again later.”

Armie sighed heavily, forever the drama queen, and rolled onto his back. “OK. Where do you wanna go?”

 

~

 

He had just taken his first sip of espresso when Timmy said it.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Armie looked around quickly, but no one in the quiet coffee shop paid them any attention.

“Relax,” Timmy leant back in his chair and smiled smugly. “Nobody understands a word we're saying.”

“Still,” it made Armie nervous. An old lady smiled at them as she shuffled past. He lowered his voice. “Don't you think it's a little fast?”

Timmy pouted. “If we wait I'm gonna overthink it.”

“Well, it's worth thinking about.”

Timmy looked down at the table, tracing intricate, invisible patterns with his finger. “Don't you want me any more?”

His voice was so small, and he sounded so _young_ that Armie's stomach clenched.

“Of course I want you. I'm just...Trying to be a good person. Will you at least let me put up a bit of a fight about this?”

Timmy's face brightened considerably, but he didn't speak.

“OK, fine,” Armie huffed when the silence became too loud. “We're gonna need supplies.”

Timmy practically hopped out of his chair and stood, gesturing to the door as if to say _come on!_

_Manipulative little shit,_ Armie thought fondly. He drank the rest of his tiny coffee as slowly as he could, to teach him a lesson.

 

~

 

“I don't wanna use a condom,” Timmy said once they were out on the street.

Armie raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I wanna feel all of you inside me.”

“You've given this a lot of thought.” Armie stared straight ahead, didn't break his stride. He was proud of that.

“It was a long walk from the apartment.”

 

~

 

Armie scoured the supermarket shelves for lube (Timmy was waiting outside, naturally). They only had one variety, so he grabbed two tubes, debated, grabbed a third. The woman behind the counter frowned at him when he placed them in front of her. He shot her his biggest shit eating grin as he paid.

“Did you get it?” Timmy was very eager.

“Calm down,” Armie threw an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, I got it.”

“Yay,” Timmy did a little shoulder scrunch of happiness.

Armie laughed and shook his head. “Only you.”

“What?”

“Only you could act so fucking _cute_ about something like this.”

Timmy just smiled. “Are we heading back, then?” He was trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly.

“Nope.”

“Huh?”

“You're the one who wanted to go out. I'm going to make the most of this lovely weather we're having.”

Timmy looked so annoyed Armie could've kissed him right there.

 

~

 

When they finally got back to Timmy's apartment, it had started to go dark. Timmy pounced on him as soon as they were in the door.

“I can't believe you made me wait _all day_ ,” he whined, his tone just this side of bratty.

Armie placated him with kisses until he was happy and pliant again. He held his face in his hands, stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Very.”

“If you wanna stop, we stop. OK?”

“OK.”

They undressed each other quickly, too keyed to put on a show. Timmy lay on the bed and Armie spooned up behind him. He kissed his neck, stroked everywhere he could reach. Timmy sighed happily.

Armie drizzled lube onto his fingers. “Lift your knees up.”

Timmy did and Armie snuggled closer. He stroked lube over Timmy's entrance before pushing his finger inside very, very slowly. Timmy exhaled through his nose. Armie slid his finger out and then back in.

“OK?”

“Mmm,” Timmy's voice was strained. “Feels weird.”

“It will do. Try to relax.”

Timmy took a shaky breath and nodded for Armie to continue.

Once he was rocking back onto his hand and making little panting noises, Armie decided to add a second finger. There was a lot of resistance, but Armie kept going until Timmy was moaning continuously and pushing his cock into the bed, desperate for friction.

“You're so fucking tight,” Armie growled into his ear. “You're gonna feel amazing.”

Timmy whimpered.

Armie pulled his fingers out, poured more lube directly onto Timmy's hole and pushed back in with three.

“Oh fuck!” Timmy lifted his hips from the bed. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”

“No you're not.” He kept his strokes just shallow enough not to touch Timmy's prostate.

“Please, Armie.”

“Please?” Armie could not have been more smug.

“I need you. Please.”

Armie pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the bed. He piled the pillows against the headboard and sat upright, his back resting against them. Timmy climbed over him until he was straddling his legs. He sat back on his heels, unsure how to proceed. Armie passed him the half empty tube.

“Put some on me.”

The contrast of the cool gel against his overheated skin sent a tingle up his spine. Timmy's hands were shaking. Armie pulled him up against his chest, flicked a nipple with his tongue.

“Hold onto the headboard and lower yourself onto me. You can control the pace better that way.”

Timmy got himself into position. Armie squeezed his ass and gently held him open as the head of his dick stretched Timmy's well slicked hole. They both gasped. Timmy sank down a little further and then stopped dead, breathing hard.

“Alright?”

“Fuck,” Timmy was trembling. “It hurts.”

Armie kissed his mouth. “We can stop.”

Timmy shook his head no. He took a deep breath and lowered himself again, gritting his teeth against the pain until Armie was all the way inside. His erection had flagged considerably, so Armie set to work stroking and squeezing him, kissing every bit of soft skin he could reach.

Timmy squirmed in his lap.

“Well,” Armie smirked, “You're hard again. That's promising.”

Timmy buried his face in Armie's neck. “Don't, man. The line is blurred enough already.”

He started to ride Armie slowly, just the slightest lift of his hips at first but then it wasn't enough and he sped up, holding onto the bed for support. He had to open his legs so wide just to fit Armie inside.

Armie held his hip in a bruising grip with one hand and worked his cock with the other. Timmy came with a yell, nails digging into Armie's shoulder.

Armie held him close and thrust up into him, chasing the release that seemed just out of reach. Timmy's cock stayed hard, trapped between them. Armie was worried about hurting him, but he couldn't have stopped now for anything. He pushed up forcefully and pulled Timmy down at the same time. Timmy made a high pitched sound and Armie felt him coming again, a sluggish pulse across his abdomen. It was enough to tip him over. He came moaning Timmy's name.

 

~

 

“I'm not gonna call you 'Timmy,' so don't even ask,” Timmy said later, as they lay together in the dark.

“Go to sleep,” Armie chuckled.

Timmy sounded like he was half way there already. “'Kay.”

 

 


	3. Sunday

Armie woke to the sound of the toilet flushing and the dip in the bed as Timmy sat down gingerly. He stretched luxuriously, arms above his head.

“Morning.”

“Hey,” Timmy said quietly. He had pulled his knees up to his chest and was hugging them close, like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

Concerned, Armie rubbed his back in small circles. “Hey, are you OK?”

“Everything hurts.”

Armie rolled over and sat up, shuffled himself down the bed until he had a leg either side of Timmy and his arms wrapped around him from behind. Eventually, Timmy unfolded himself and leaned back into Armie's embrace. Armie kissed him on the cheek. It was damp.

“Shit, Tim. Please don't cry,” Armie felt like the absolute worst kind of scum. He'd enjoyed last night so much. He was so selfish.

Timmy sniffed, scrubbing his tears away with the back of his hand. “'Msorry,” he exhaled a shaky breath.

“Don't,” Armie cuddled him close. “Don't go into your head. Tell me what's wrong.”

“I just feel...” Timmy gestured, couldn't find the words.

“Overwhelmed?” Armie tried.

“Yeah. A bit. I'm sorry. It's me, you didn't do anything wrong.”

“Ssshh, don't worry,” Armie stroked his arms, “is there anything else?”

Timmy cringed, his face crumpling. “Erm, actually, I feel kinda gross. Like, sticky.”

Armie couldn't help but smile at that. He was glad Timmy couldn't see his face. “Let's take a shower.”

 

Timmy's bathroom wasn't the biggest. They stood looking at the bath and the shower over it, both of them having the same thought at the same time.

“I don't think we're gonna fit,” Timmy said sadly.

Armie looked the shower up and down, hands on his hips. “I like a challenge.”

It took some careful manoeuvring, but they both managed to fit under the warm spray. Armie soaped Timmy up, making sure he was clean _everywhere_ while Timmy made tired, happy noises. He washed himself quickly. Timmy offered to help, but Armie assured him this was all for him, so Timmy just stood there and let Armie take care of him. He even let Armie wrap him up in a towel once the water started to cool and they had to get out.

“Feel better now?” Armie asked.

Timmy yawned. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Armie smiled at him. “Still pretty drained, huh?”

“I had a big night,” Timmy shrugged.

Armie laughed at that. They walked into the bedroom and he threw back the covers, gesturing for Timmy to get in. “Have a few more hours. You need it.”

Timmy got back into bed, moving straight to the middle so that he was cocooned in the duvet.

Armie picked his clothes up off the floor. He sniffed the shirt he'd worn yesterday, pulled a face. _Nope._ He looked around and saw Timmy's big white t shirt thrown haphazardly towards the wardrobe. He managed to snag it without Timmy noticing.

“See you later,” he went towards the door.

“Don't leave,” Timmy said from his duvet nest. “I mean, you're not going back to your place, Right?”

“Nah, I like it here.”

“OK,” Timmy smiled as he snuggled down.

Armie closed the door behind him.

 

He was laying on the couch reading when Timmy got up a few hours later.

“Hey,” Timmy leaned over the back of the sofa to kiss him.

“He lives!” Armie smiled up at him, slightly disappointed to see that he was dressed.

“Thanks for letting me sleep, “ Timmy pushed Armie's legs up so that he could sit down next to him. Armie sat up too.

“Want some food? I could make you something.”

“God, yes. I'm starving.”

Armie put his book of the coffee table, stood and moved towards the kitchen.

“Is that my shirt?” Timmy asked, behind his back.

“Mine was a bit ripe,” he replied, without turning around.

Timmy followed him into the kitchen. “You know I sleep in that, right?”

Armie could hear the smirk in his voice. “You don't own anything else that would fit me. Now, shoo.” He ushered him out of the room with a spatula.

Timmy went, palms up in surrender, laughing.

He wolfed down the scrambled eggs Armie made him like he hadn't eaten for a week, saying things like 'so good,' and 'oh man,' between bites.

Armie glowed with the praise. “I'm a man of many talents.”

Timmy raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

Armie felt his face heating up. “So,” he rubbed his hands together, “last day of the weekend. What do you wanna do?”

“Stay in. Watch dumb shit on TV. Make out.”

Armie nodded sagely. “All doable. Pass me the remote.”

 

They couldn't find anything in English or with subtitles, so they made up their own lines instead, giggling hysterically.

Timmy pulled at the sleeve of Armie's/his t shirt. “This doesn't even fit you properly,” he ran his finger under the soft cotton, “it's too tight on your big arms.”

“Subtle,” Armie snorted. “It's too short as well. I've got a bit of a midriff thing going on.”

He stood up and raised his arms above his head. The shit rode up, exposing his hip bones and the 'v' between them.

Timmy licked his lips. “I see no problem.”

Armie's eyes darkened. “Oh really?”

“Actually,” Timmy licked his lips again, gave Armie the once over, “you look ridiculous. You should take it off. You know, to save yourself the embarrassment.”

Armie prowled over to the couch, kissing Timmy and pushing him to lie back so that he could straddle him. He pulled the shirt off in one fluid motion and threw it somewhere behind him.

“Better?”

“Much.”

Timmy pulled him down for more brain-melting kisses. Armie pushed his hand into his thick curls, anchoring him to the couch. Timmy arched his neck, exposing the pale throat that Armie just had to kiss, suck, bite.

“Hnngh fuck.” Timmy whined, “Fuck me again.”

Armie pulled back. “I thought 'everything hurt,'” he teased.

“I'll hurt more if you _don't_ fuck me.” Timmy's expression was earnest, his eyes pleading.

Armie couldn't resist him. Never stood a chance, really. He climbed off Timmy with a quick 'gonna get the lube, wait here.' When he got back, Timmy was naked on the couch, legs spread, hard dick in his hand.

“Oh yeah,” Armie said, taking in the sight before him. “Yes please.”

He shimmied out of his shorts and underwear and was back on top of Timmy less than a minute later. Timmy flinched when the cold slick touched his hole for the first time, but he was still a little soft and open from the night before, so Armie's fingers slid inside easier. Armie still took his time preparing him, despite Timmy's whimpers and pleas, his assurances that he was ready. When Armie did finally enter him, he sank in to the hilt, and Timmy practically wailed. Armie was in heaven. He fucked Timmy slowly, deeply, his tongue in his mouth, filling him up from both ends.

Timmy stayed hard this time. Panting, he moved his hand down and squeezed himself, swiping his thumb over his slit as it leaked copiously.

Armie held himself up. “Yeah, do that. Show me how you do it.”

Timmy swallowed and arched up, too far gone to ignore Armie's request. Armie watched as he worked his cock, his rhythm never faltering. He took note of every little stroke, the way Timmy twisted his hand around the head, the way he made a fist to fuck himself into.

“The next time we have one of our _frustrating_ days” he growled in Timmy's ear, “I'm gonna take you off down a little corridor somewhere, pull your trunks down and touch you, exactly like you're touching yourself now. I'm gonna make you come all over yourself while I play with your cock, just the way you like it.”

“Armie! Armie. Oh. Fuck!” Timmy moaned and came, his release reaching his chest.

Armie licked it off him, biting his nipple in the process. The tight squeeze around his cock was too much. He was so close.

“Tim, I'm gonna lose it. Do you want me to pull out?” His voice was strangled and desperate.

Timmy shook his head. “Come for me.”

Armie collapsed on top of him, his cock twitching deep inside. He felt empty, completely spent. Timmy raked his hand through his hair, kissed him on the forehead.

 

Later, when they had cleaned up and (reluctantly) dressed themselves again, they sat on Timmy's balcony in the twilight, sharing a cigarette and watching the smoke coil in the air. Timmy had been quiet for awhile, but Armie could tell he wanted to speak.

“So,” he took a long drag of the cigarette, “what happens tomorrow?”

Armie rearranged himself on the old metal chair. “Well, we do what we've been doing all weekend, except there will be an old Italian man filming us.”

Timmy laughed, but it ended quickly and he looked worried again. “You know what I mean.”

Armie did not want to have this conversation. “We've got weeks of filming left. Everything's gonna be fine.”

“And what about after that?” Timmy would not let this drop.

“Then we have 14 months of promo work to do all over the world. We'll spend nearly every day together.”

“And what about after that? What about when all this is over and we go back to living on opposite sides of the country?”

Armie sighed. “Look, Tim, I can't promise we'll be together forever. No one can really promise that. I don't know what's gonna happen. You might meet some hot writer in New York and dump my ass in six months.”

The joke fell completely flat. Timmy looked like he might cry. “Don't even joke about that,” he said quietly, not meeting Armie's gaze, “I would never.”

“I know,” he reached out and stroked his arm, “I know. I'm sorry.” He took a deep breath, “For the record,” Timmy looked up at him through long lashes. “The way I feel about you, I just,” his throat felt tight. “I'm not going anywhere,” he said, because that was the easier thing to say.

Timmy visibly relaxed. He even smiled knowingly around the cigarette. “Good,” was all he said.

 

~

 

Armie stayed over again that night, but headed home early in the morning for clean clothes and a proper shower. They held hands in the back of the car that arrived to drive them to the set. Armie squeezed his fingers just before they got out. No words needed, their little private smiles were enough.

 

“Ah!” Luca threw his hands in the air as they approached. “Boys! Welcome back. I trust you are well rested.”

Timmy coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. Armie shot him a look that said _don't._

Luca didn't catch it. “So,” he stood between them, a hand on each of their backs. “How was your weekend?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's read and commented :)

**Author's Note:**

> [lion-from-the-north on tumblr](http://lion-from-the-north.tumblr.com/)


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